


Carry On My Wayward Son

by fath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6442453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fath/pseuds/fath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean Winchester have never wanted anything special. Driving in the Impala, saving people  and hunting things has always been more than enough for them.</p><p>But everything is about to change when the angels fall, and the two brothers are pulled into a family feud that is millenniums in the making.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Heyy guys so I have this new story now. It was inspired by this fanfic on Wattpad called "Hunter's Angel" by Gabriels_Wings. However, it is not based off the fic. There is one chapter in it called Swan Song and it similar to the episode "Swan Song" in Season 5. When reading it, I started to really think about the apocalypse plot-line and the Destiel and Sabriel stuff that could happen in it and I decided that I really wanted to write something along that line too. 
> 
> So here we are. However, this is gonna be... very different than the TV show and the previously mentioned fanfic. :)

            **_This story begins with war._** It is a war unlike any other—ancient and biblical. It is a war of gods and angels, of brothers and sisters. Loyalties were tested. Bonds were broken. History was forever altered. Nothing would be the same in Heaven, on Earth, or in Hell. It was the war that ended with the banishment of God’s most beloved son and the departure of God himself. It ended with the “good son” wondering what he did wrong. It ended with all angels distancing themselves from humanity, reeling from the loss of their Father. It ended with nothing but tragedy, heartbreak, and despair for all.

            It began with the creation of angels. Michael—the firstborn son of God. He was the strongest, most powerful archangel. God created the warrior to help him battle his sister, the Darkness. In order for God to follow through with his plan, his sister needed to be locked away. She would only destroy the creations he planned to make. But Michael was not enough. So God made Lucifer.

            Lucifer was God’s favorite—his “perfect” creation. Lucifer was beautiful in every sense of the word. He shone far brighter than Michael ever did. He was a better warrior, smarter, swifter, stronger, more emotional. For in Lucifer, God placed some emotions—emotions that he had left out of Michael. Lucifer was his first experiment; most of his qualities would be later placed into humanity. The success of Lucifer only increased God’s love for him.

            But even Lucifer in all his glory was not enough to defeat the Darkness. The Darkness had all of God’s power and then some.

            So God made Raphael, modeling him after Michael. He thought that perhaps another cold-blooded warrior would help matters. Raphael was ruthless like both of his brothers—in fact, even more so. But still, the Darkness would not fall or yield to God’s commands.

            In a final attempt to stop his sister, God created Gabriel. Gabriel was the youngest, and, like Lucifer, God bestowed emotions into Gabriel. He made Gabriel the most “human” of all the archangels, but still made sure he was just as strong a warrior as his brothers. Upon the creation of Gabriel, the Darkness faced five extremely powerful foes. With Gabriel’s help, the archangels and God succeeded.

            In an epic battle that obliterated all God and his sister had built, she was defeated. When it came down to the final moments when the Darkness was weakened, God faltered. He needed her gone, not dead. She was his sister—the only being like him in the entire universe. Without her, he would be completely and truly alone. Even if he did have his sons and his creations, there would not be another being on his level. Unable to kill his sister, God locked her away. He created a special prison just for her in the very depths oblivion. He locked that prison with a powerful mark. As long as that mark existed, the Darkness would be locked away.

            God gave this mark to his most-trusted—his favorite son, Lucifer. Lucifer accepted the mark honorably, promising that no matter what happened, the Darkness would never be released. However, God’s mark was not as strong as he believed it to be.          

            The Darkness, while she could not completely unlock the door to her prison and completely escape, her essence could seep out. It could not go far, nor could it directly wreak havoc. What it could do, was effect the bearer of the mark, Lucifer. The Darkness crept into Lucifer’s bright, good soul. It tainted it. Lucifer was unaware of the effect the Darkness had on him, but he began to feel an overwhelming sense of hatred toward his father and toward his father’s newest creations: humans. He felt an overwhelming sense of jealousy, and the Darkness whispering in is ear did not help. Subtly, she placed thoughts into his mind. He had been God’s favorite for so long, now he had been replaced—replaced by humans.

            Humans were broken creatures—Lucifer saw that from the beginning. They were broken and flawed, and yet God preferred them over him—pure perfection. The thought nagged at Lucifer incessantly. It ate away at him, tormented him. Until one day he could take it no longer.

            Lucifer went to his most trusted confidante, Gabriel. He spoke to his brother about humanity and how they were unworthy of God’s love. The younger angel chose his words carefully. He knew that speaking like this was complete blasphemy. Lucifer was God’s favorite, however, and he had little regard for the rules. Gabriel told Lucifer that he was overreacting and that he should not think about the issue too much if it caused him such despair.

            Feeling betrayed by his brother’s response, Lucifer went to Michael. Michael was Lucifer’s older brother—one of his closest friends. Surely Michael would understand. He expressed his feelings to Michael, and his brother listened in silence. To Lucifer’s surprise, Michael neither agreed or disagreed. He surveyed his brother before advising him to not speak of such things again. Michael was no fan of humanity—he thought them to be weak, uncultured monkeys. However, Michael would never speak the words allowed. In his mind, he was a good son. He obeyed his father’s words to the letter and never offered any sort of commentary. He was a good soldier. Even if he disagreed with something, he knew that his father was always right.

            God watched his sons even when they did not know he was there. He listened to Lucifer’s talk of humanity. He knew of the mutinous thoughts that went on his son’s head, and he knew that the Darkness was responsible. But Lucifer had a part to play in God’s grand plan. Certain things needed to happen, and that meant that Lucifer had to suffer the consequences of God’s decision to lock up his sister. It destroyed him—watching his beloved son be twisted and turned into something that he was never meant to be.

            When Lucifer directly and outwardly opposed humanity, doing so, he opposed God as well. He went to Earth, which was forbidden for any angel. He corrupted Lilith, the first wife of Adam. He twisted and manipulated her soul into something dark. With Lilith, he created the first demon. With that action, Lucifer had made his bed and therefore had to lay in it. God knew this, but it did not make the task ahead any easier.

            Some angels agreed with Lucifer. They sided with him and took a stand against God. A civil war began in Heaven. Lucifer led a small army of angels against God, claiming that his love for humanity was unjust. Angels—supreme and powerful beings—should not have to bow to such low and inadequate creatures. God sat and watched it all happen. He went to Michael, his eldest and told him what must be done.

            Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel stood before their father as he told them what must happen to Lucifer. All three were solemn and silence. Even Michael and Raphael who did not feel as Gabriel did felt as though they had been punched in the gut when God told them Lucifer must be cast down into Hell. It was even a worse blow when it was said that Michael must be the one to banish him.

            But Michael was a good son.

            He was a good soldier.

            And he would do what was asked of him, no matter how much it killed him inside.

            When his sons left him, God called upon Metatron, a lower angel who was not special in any particular way. God knew what would happen once Lucifer fell. He knew now what he would become of his world. Everything would work out just as he had intended, but first he had to prepare his children. He instructed Metatron to write down everything he said, and the angel obeyed. Several stone tablets were created. Two of them were given to humanity—Moses specifically. They were the rules to live their lives by. The others served as instructions for the angels. They dealt with demons, angels, Heaven, Hell, Earth, the Darkness, everything that they would ever need. God was leaving behind his instruction manual so that when he left like he had always planned to do, they would not be entirely on their own.

            Meanwhile, Michael met Lucifer on the battlefield. The army of Heaven against the army of Darkness. Michael and his army slaughtered most of the opposing angels. He and Raphael raged war on all of those who supported Lucifer, but Gabriel stood back. The youngest archangel watched in pure horror as his brothers and sisters lay bloody and dying around him. He watched as his siblings fought to the death and could do nothing to stop it.

            Gabriel watched as Michael banished Lucifer from Heaven. After defeating him in battle, Michael drew his sword. The oldest archangel was covered in the blood of other angels. His massive gray wings were folded at his back, but spread out as he grabbed Lucifer by the throat. Michael’s wings beat the air, raising the two brothers high into the sky. Lucifer’s wings, which were usually so pristine they shone, were broken and bloody. Few white feathers remained, those that did were hanging on by thin tendrils of flesh. Gabriel watched Michael bring his sword down on each of Lucifer’s wings, severing them. The wings fell to the ground, shriveling up and withering until they were black and charred. Michael, his face blank and his eyes cold as ice, cast Lucifer out of Heaven and down to Earth.

            Lucifer fell in flames, screaming in pain as his grace was ripped burnt. He cursed his father and cursed humanity. He gave into the Darkness entirely. He was no longer Lucifer Morningstar, God’s most beloved son. He was the Devil. He was wicked and hated by all angels and humans alike. And he embraced it.

            God did not reward Michael for casting out his brother. He gave him a simple word of approval before withdrawing completely. He remained in Heaven, but refrained him interacting with anyone. His tablets were written. His plans were ready to commence. But he could not leave just yet. The loss of Lucifer took a mighty toll on him. He knew that it was his fault—it was the Darkness working her revenge on him from inside her cage. If the Darkness had truly corrupted Lucifer, then had had to be locked away as well. God knew that it had to be done, or Lucifer would destroy everything. He should have known better—known that his sister would take revenge on him. And what better way to do it than to turn his favorite son against him?

            Lucifer’s influence on Cain was the perfect excuse to lock him away. Even though he had been cast out of Heaven, Lucifer still lingered on Earth. He convinced Eve to eat the Forbidden Fruit and get them exiled from the Garden of Eden. Then, when Cain and Abel were born, Lucifer tried to corrupt Abel. Cain discovered this treachery and begged Lucifer to take him instead of his brother—to let Abel get into Heaven and be at peace. Of course, Lucifer agreed to this, but as long as Cain put him there. And so, Cain committed the first murder. To help him complete this, Lucifer gave Cain some of the darkness that was inside him, therefore transferring the mark to Cain.

            Again, God called upon Michael. He told Michael of a cage in Hell he had built specifically to hold Lucifer. He ordered Michael to put him there. Michael, again, obeyed. Whatever feelings or emotions he had beforehand were gone. Fighting Lucifer—his own brother—had destroyed them. He fought Lucifer a second time, but now it was on Earth. Again, Michael won. With the advantage of his wings, it was too easy for him. Lucifer cursed his name as Michael drug Lucifer down into Hell. He locked him in his cage and sealed it with sixty-six seals so that he would never be freed.

            Michael returned to Heaven, expecting God to show his approval or his gratitude, but instead found him gone. He searched all over Heaven, but to no avail. God was gone. He assembled his brothers and sisters and they searched for what seemed like an eternity. No matter where they looked, they could not find their father.

            So, Michael ruled Heaven then. Being the oldest, it was his right. But Michael took no pleasure in it. He sat in Heaven, oversaw humanity, read his father’s tablets, and made sure all duties were followed correctly. He ran Heaven like a military base, and there were no mistakes. But he did so with little enjoyment. Michael could not help but feel like it was his fault God was gone. He wondered endlessly about what he could have done or said to make his father leave. What had he done wrong?

            Lucifer, locked in his cage, screamed endlessly. He ripped at the bars trying to free himself until his hands were bloody. His thoughts could only focus on his revenge. He would get out. He would destroy Earth, and then Heaven. He would find Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. If they sided with him, then he would love them again like nothing happened, for he knew that they were only doing as their father commanded. But if they still opposed him, if they still obeyed God, then he would kill them and take their wings as trophies, just as Michael had taken his.

            Raphael ruled alongside his brother in Heaven. He was the hammer to Michael’s orders. If Michael needed something done or someone eliminated, Raphael was the one who would do it. He worked only to remain on his brother’s good side, for he wanted to be a good son too. He thought that perhaps if he obeyed Michael and showed his loyalty to Heaven and God, that maybe their father would return. But that was not how things were, and he knew this deep down. However, there was nothing else he could do but try.

            Gabriel, the most emotional of all the archangels, could not cope with all that had happened. After God left and Lucifer was locked away, Gabriel fled Heaven. He went to Earth but found it was a large strain on his grace to exist there on his own. So, Gabriel found a vessel—a human that agreed to allow him to inhabit their body so that he would walk on Earth. Gabriel hid from Heaven among the humans. He tried to act like one and therefore observed them intently to mimic their actions. Through his observation, Gabriel came to a startling realization: God had been right. Humans were better than angels. Humans, as broken and flawed as they were, tried to do better. They tried to forgive and be kind. They put others before themselves. With his new eyes, Gabriel saw exactly what his father had meant. He was struck breathless by their emotions, their creativity, their ingenuity, their imperfect perfection.

            There is one angel that is worth mentioning, although he did not play a large part in the story thus far. Castiel was the last angel God created before leaving Heaven. While Michael ruled Heaven, Lucifer plotted in Hell, Raphael prayed for God to return, and Gabriel fell in love with humanity, Castiel grew up. No one knew why God had made him at the last moment, but it was clear that he was far different than the other angels. He loved humanity—he was positively fascinated by them. While this was peculiar, it was not dangerous in the slightest. For the most part, the other angels kept their distance from Castiel. They had no idea that he was one of the biggest characters in God’s newest and possibly greatest story yet.

            Whether this is an entirely new story, or simply a continuation of the previous one is debatable. But this time, it does not happen in Heaven.

            No, this time, it happens on Earth.

            And it involves the two most unlikely heroes: Sam and Dean Winchester.


	2. Chapter 1

            **_Dean Winchester did not know things most humans did._** He did not know a lot about history. He did not know about atoms and chemical bonding. He did not know the Pythagorean Theorem. He had never read classic books like _Wuthering Heights_ or _Frankenstein_ or _Moby Dick_. But for all the things he did not knew that most other humans knew, he knew then things about the supernatural. The things most humans concerned them with were meaningless to him. How was the Pythagorean Theorem going to help him kill a werewolf or exorcise a demon?

            Dean Winchester was not an ordinary human. He did not happily go about his daily life, oblivious to all the monsters that lurked in the shadows. Any possibility of that kind of life ended on November 2, 1983. That was the day his mother died, the day his father vowed he would get revenge on the demon that murdered her. That was the day Dean Winchester became a hunter. His father raised him to be a warrior—a soldier against the darkness and all the evil things in the world. Dean obeyed all of his father’s wishes. He did so, always seeking his father’s approval. He just wanted to hear the words, “Good job, Dean. I’m so proud of you Dean.”

            But John Winchester had never been one for affectionate gestures. He was a military man—a marine. And that was how he treated his family.

            However, for every compliment John did not give him, Sam did. Sam was Dean’s little brother. Four years younger, Sam looked up to Dean and followed him around endlessly. Sam just thought the world of his big brother. He was strong, brave, and just so smart when it came to hunting. Sam loved his big brother more than anything in the world—more than John, more than their Uncle Bobby who often visited and made sure they did “kid stuff.” Dean was not just his brother, but his best friend too. Everything Dean did, Sam wanted to do too. If Dean went out and practiced shooting, Sam would tag along and beg to shoot too. If Dean snuck out to see a movie or go play videogames at the bar down the road from their motel, Sam would follow him and demand to be included or else he would wake up John.

            Sam adored him. The first word he ever said was “Dean.” Not dad or mom. But Dean. And Dean looked after his baby brother no matter what. He was his protector. Throughout their uneasy and neglectful childhoods and even into adulthood, Dean watched over Sammy. Dean Winchester did not know most things that other humans did, but he knew one thing for certain: Sam Winchester was the one person that he was positive he could love.

            Their father was not the kindest of men. John, consumed by revenge, thought of nothing but the demon. He trained Sam and Dean to be warriors in the fight to kill the demon that had burned Mary Winchester on the ceiling of Sam’s nursery. He was an “all work and no play” kind of man. Dean and Sam grew up, never really knowing what it was like to be kids. Dean did his best to get Sam to have those experiences. He took Sam to soccer practice every day when Sam had admitted he wanted to play. He went to his games and cheered louder than any of those soccer moms. When Sam auditioned for the school play in middle school, Dean had taken him to practice each night and read lines with him. He went to every night of the show and always started a standing ovation. When Sam would step forward and bow, he always made sure to cheer the loudest, even if Sam only was Town Person #3. John never showed up to any of the games or any plays Sam did. When Sam said he wanted to go to college, Dean had been thrilled. John threw a fit.

            John forbade Sam from going. He told him that if he left, then he should never come back. Sam walked out of the motel room and to the nearest bus station without another word. Dean had stood by his brother’s decision and did not dare oppose his father. That night, he had cried himself to sleep. His Sam was gone. But he knew that Sam needed to go out and live his life, so how could he complain?

            However, fortune brought them together again. That fortune being John’s death. John died suddenly in 2005. His body had been found outside of St. Louis, Missouri with a single stab wound in the chest. Sam flew to Greenville, Illinois for the funeral, which Dean had organized. John Winchester was buried next to the memorial headstone for his wife. The two brothers stood looking down at the headstone that now had both of their parents’ names on it.

            “Was it the demon?” Sam had asked in a quiet voice.

            Dean had sighed and nodded. “Yes… At least that’s what Bobby and I think.”

            Silence descended upon the pair. Dean bit his lip and scanned the graveyard. “So… When are you going back to Stanford?” he asked, wondering how much time he had with his little brother before he went back to his normal, apple-pie life.

            “I’m not going back.”

            Dean looked at him with surprised, evergreen eyes. “What do you mean? What are you going to do?”

            Sam looked at him. His expression was unreadable and his voice grim. He had grown an inch or two since Dean had last seen him, but still had the baby-face of his younger brother. “I’m staying with you.”

            “Why?”

            The younger Winchester looked back at their parents’ graves. “Because we have work to do.”

            Sam and Dean had been together again ever since. Four years had passed since John’s death. Dean was thirty now and Sam was twenty-six. Dean could feel the age in his bones. After hunts he felt the pain in his muscles. The wear and tear of constant travel took its toll on his health and his body. Sam could still handle the incredibly long hours and the physical demands of the job. Dean was beginning to struggle. He relied more and more on pain medication and let Sam drive their car—a ’67 Chevy Impala—more while he slept in the passenger seat. He never told Sam of how tired he was or what the job did to him, but Sam had good intuition. He sensed his brother’s troubles and helped out in subtle but effective ways.

              _What would I ever do without my brother?_ Dean wondered. He drove down a straight stretch of highway. The two brothers were heading back to Bobby’s house, which had become their basecamp of sorts. Bobby, or Uncle Bobby as they used to call him when they were kids, was more like a father to them than John ever was. Bobby looked after them and made sure that played enough and had some fun in their dreary lives. Now that they were adults, Bobby was not just their uncle for all intents and purposes, but a colleague and a good friend. When Sam and Dean were not traversing the country saving people and hunting things, they hung out at Bobby’s house.

            The day was April 5, 2009. They were driving through Kansas. All around them were flat, empty fields, freshly plowed but empty. The weather was nice—the perfect temperature in fact. The boys had the windows of the Impala down and were enjoying the delightful breeze. Dean had taken off his leather jacket and was sporting only one layer today, a light gray shirt and a pair of faded, ripped blue jeans. Sam still had the usual two, a white undershirt beneath a red-and-white flannel and dark blue jeans. Both had one arm out the window. Dean rocked out to “Enter Sandman” by Metallica while Sam watched the road fly by in the side mirror, his shoulder-length hair blowing rather majestically in the wind.

            Dean looked over at Sammy, smiling and singing along with the son. “ _Exit: light. Enter: light. Take my hand. We’re off to never-never land!_ ” he sang along. He was tone-deaf when it came to singing, but that did not stop him from trying, especially if it annoyed Sam. “C’mon, Sammy. I know you know the words!”

            His brother looked over at him, smiling a little. “You’re doing just fine without me, rock star.”

            That was when Dean noticed the thing in the sky.

            It was bright, big, and quickly approaching them. Dean slammed on the breaks of the Impala. It skidded to a halt, both brothers jerking forward. “DEAN!” Sam shouted. The object was pelting downward toward Earth with rapid speed. Dean peered out of the windshield to see it was on fire.

            The song continued.

 

“ _Now I lay me down to sleep._

_(Now I lay me down to sleep.)_

_Pray the Lord my soul to keep._

_(Pray the Lord my soul to keep.)_ ”

            Sam saw it now too. “What the hell is that?!”

_  
If I die before I wake._

_(If I die before I wake.)_

_Pray the Lord my soul to take._

_(Pray the Lord my soul to take.)_ ”

 

            Dean then saw more—more balls of fire plummeting toward the Earth all around them. The first one Dean had noticed hit the Earth not five feet in front of their car. Before it struck the ground, Dean swore he saw the shape of a person in the fire. More of these meteor-like masses were beginning to fall all around them. Dean quickly shifted the car into its highest gear, taking off down the road. He avoided the crater that the first object had created in front of their car. “Okay…” he said as they left the crater behind them. “So… Don’t freak out… But I am pretty sure I saw a person in the fire before it hit.”

            “A person!?” Sam repeated, more like screeched. “How sure are you?”

            “Like… eight-five percent sure.”

            “What the hell?” the younger Winchester wondered aloud.

            “I know.”

            “No, seriously. What the hell!? We’re what is this? They’re still coming down! Every—LOOK OUT!” he shouted as another one of the masses came crashing down on the road just ahead of them.

            Dean cursed and slammed again on the breaks. He swung the car sideways to further stop its momentum, nearly going off the road in the process. The Impala slid to a stop just before the new crater that had been made. Both brothers were breathing heavily after that close call. “Fuck this,” Dean grumbled before hopping out of the car.

            “Dean!” Sam shouted. A moment later, he was following his brother. Dean had drawn his handgun and was approaching the crater with wary eyes. “Dean, just get back in the car and let’s go! If it’s a meteor, then so what. But if you actually saw… a person then… Dude, just get back in the fucking car and let’s go to Bobby’s!”

            The older Winchester ignored his brother’s suggestion. He walked up to the edge of the pit that had been created by whatever the creature or object was. His finger on the trigger, Dean cautiously peered into the smoking pit in the earth. The first thing he noticed was that it was completely empty. There was nothing in it—no meteor and no creature. “What the fuck…?”

            “What?” Sam asked, slowly approaching behind Dean.

            “There’s nothing there.”

            “What?!” Sam came up behind him and looked at the empty crater. His eyebrows knitted together, and his face screwing up. “Dean, have you ever heard about anything like this before?”

            He pursed his lips together and shook his head. “No… But I think that you’re right—we have to get to Bobby’s. Now.”

 

\----

 

            They arrived at Bobby’s in record time, Dean breaking several traffic laws. The two brothers practically leapt out of the Impala and rushed inside. “Bobby!” Dean shouted upon entering the house. The bearded, baseball cap-wearing hunter was sitting at his kitchen table, drinking straight out of a whiskey bottle. He put it down when he saw his boys enter, his eyebrows furrowing.

            “Sam? Dean? What are you two doing here so early and where’s the fire?” he asked. His kitchen table was littered with various books, all of them open and all containing various knowledge of the supernatural.

            “Oh, you know, falling from the sky and almost taking out my Baby,” Dean huffed sarcastically. “Did you not see the fire falling from the sky, Bobby?”

            The older hunter just stared at the two of them. “Slow down, you idjit. Can you start from the beginning so I’m not lost?”

            Sam jumped in, explaining everything that happened on the road with the dozens of balls of fire falling around them and how Dean saw the silhouette of a person in one of them that had crashed in front of the Impala. Bobby listened with a curious expression and grew more perplexed as the story continued. “I’ve never heard anything like that before,” he admitted. He got to his feet and went into his study. The Winchesters followed closely, looking to Bobby for some kind of leadership.

            “What could it mean?” Dean asked.

            “No idea,” Bobby replied, scanning the titles of books on the shelves. “I’m gonna read up on this and try to find out what it could be. Meanwhile, I have a case for you right here in town. I was gonna handle it myself, but since you two are here, you can do the heavy lifting.”

            “Oh wow, thanks, Bobby,” Dean grumbled.

            “Aw, are you tired? I’m so sorry, princess. But just because there is fire raining down from the sky doesn’t mean that we can just stop hunting,” Bobby pointed out.

            “Um, I don’t know about you, but _raining fire_ sounds like a good excuse for me.”

            “We’ll handle it Bobby,” Sam interjected before things got ugly. “Any idea what it might be?”

            “Sounds like a shape-shifter to me. Jody called me to check it out… which was why I was gonna go myself,” the old hunter muttered. “But you two can handle it just fine.”

            Dean arched an eyebrow. “Were you planning on gettin’ some, Bobby?”

            “Dean, shut your pie-hole, or I’ll do it for you.”

            “Oh-ho-ho, touchy are we,” Dean laughed. “We all know you have a thing for Jody. Hey, I think she has a thing for you too.”

            Bobby shot him a glance out of the corner of his eye. “You think?”

            “Hell yeah. What girl wouldn’t want a guy like us? An emotionally scarred, mean, alcoholic that’s never home. That about sums all of us up. We’re catches,” Dean chuckled, although he knew that his description was all too true.

            “Don’t you have a case to look into?”

            “Yeah, c’mon Dean,” Sam hissed, grabbing his brother’s arm and hauling him out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

            **_When Castiel fell, he fell in flames._** He had been doing nothing out of the ordinary—just watching his favorite humans from Heaven. He lounged on a cloud, smiling to himself as Dean Winchester sang along to some heavy metal song and Sam gave him incredulous albeit amused looks. There was something about the Winchester brothers that pulled the youngest angel in, although he could not understand what it was. Why were they so enthralling? Why did they have him—an angel of the Lord—wrapped around their little finger? It made no sense and yet Castiel could not complain. The two humans were far away from him in reality. They dwelt on Earth, completely oblivious to his existence. Dean did not even believe angels existed.

            Castiel had always watched over the two brothers since the day they were born. Thirty years ago, Castiel had been approached by Raphael—a big honor since the archangels seldom appeared to the lesser angels. Raphael told Castiel that very special human was going to be born—the vessel of Michael—and that Castiel had to watch over him. Castiel accepted this task with delight. Humanity was always so fascinating. However, the moment Castiel laid eyes on Dean Winchester, his world changed. Suddenly, Heaven, Hell, Earth—they no longer mattered. For the moment Castiel saw Dean Winchester, even as a child, he was lost.

            The first thing that struck him was his soul. To angels, the physical body was nothing more than a meat-suit. It meant nothing and was simply the product of human genetics. It was the soul they looked at. And Dean Winchester’s soul was the brightest soul Castiel had ever seen. It was so bright and so pure that Castiel was in love with it from the first. Castiel did not need to be told to protect Dean Winchester from harm—he probably would have done so anyway.

            Sam Winchester was no different. His soul did not shine as brightly as Dean’s, but rendered equal astonishment. _Father,_ Castiel had thought when he saw Sam’s soul for the first time. _Father, you have outdone yourself this time. How much effort could you have put into Sam and Dean? There are no other humans like them._

Castiel watched them grow up. He was supposed to remain distant from them, not intervene unless absolutely necessary. For thirty years, Castiel carried out his duties to the letter. And over those thirty years, he found himself more and more in love with humans, the Winchesters specifically.

            One day, everything changed. Castiel was watching the Winchesters drive in their Impala and then, the ground gave out beneath his feet. His large black wings unfolded, but they seized up and would not work no matter how hard Castiel tried to move them. He began to plummet downward toward the Earth, toward the Impala.

            In that moment, all he knew was pain. He screamed in pure agony as he felt like his soul was being ripped from his very being. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Castiel clenched his eyes shut—it was too painful to keep them open—but he found feel the heat of the flames that surrounded him. In that moment, he could only think one thing. _Dean. I hope they move out of the way in time._ If they didn’t see him, Castiel would crush them when he hit the Earth. He knew what was happening—he had heard rumors that someone was trying to banish the angels from Heaven, but he never imagined that it would ever happen.

            Castiel hit the ground, all of his momentum creating a giant crater in the Earth. His consciousness faded, dazed from hitting the ground. The last thing he heard was the voice of a familiar human. “Dean!”

 

            When the young angel woke, he felt different. Normally, he felt relatively weightless. He could soar wherever he wanted and was invincible. That feeling was gone now—long gone. Castiel felt heavy and oppressed. He tried to move his wings but winced at the extreme pain the gesture caused. His eyes blinked open slowly, a white light blinding him momentarily before his vision adjusted. He saw a man standing over him. He had shaggy, dirty-blond locks and eyes the color of whiskey. It took Castiel a second, but if he focused, he could make out the soul within the vessel.

            “Hey kiddo,” the man said, pulling a lollipop out of the pocket of his tan jacket. He unwrapped it and popped the sweet in his mouth.

            Castiel sat up with much effort, his entire body screaming. It felt like he had spent all day fighting in a war and had taken a lot of damage. He gritted his teeth and forced himself into a sitting position, staring at the all too familiar soul. “Gabriel?” he asked, his eyes squinting as he tried to focus on his soul again. He found it was much easier to stare at the vessel instead of the soul, so he settled on watching the man’s brown eyes.

            “Yeppers,” the archangel replied, sucking on his lollipop. “You took quite a fall, Cassie—the rest of our siblings too. I guess it was a perk of not being in Heaven, technically, I didn’t have to fall, although my wings are a scorched mess and my grace ain’t doing too good. You guys made a hell of a spectacle though—all of y’all falling in unison and slamming into the Earth like meteors. If it wasn’t my siblings falling from Heaven, I would’ve called it pretty.”

            “What happened? Do you know how we fell?” Castiel asked. The more time he spent conscious, he found that the less his body hurt. He managed to look around his surroundings; he was in what looked like a small house, or perhaps a cabin was a better word. He was lying on a bed in a small room with stained wooden walls. Gabriel stood next to the bed, still licking his lollipop. Cas also took a moment to look down at his own body. He noticed at first that he was wearing a tan-colored trench-coat and black dress pants. He wore a white dress shirt as well as a blue tie, but he had no idea what his vessel looked like. _Vessel,_ he thought. _This must be a vessel… It’s the only way I would ever feel things, but how did I get one?_

            “No clue,” Gabriel answered. “You’re the only angel I’ve spoken to since the fall. You see… I figured it would be prudent of me to _not_ get myself involved in family affairs since they were the reason I left home in the first place.” If Castiel did not know his brother better, he would have said the archangel looked guilty.

            Castiel decided to change the subject then. “Gabriel, am I in a vessel?”

            “Yeah. When the angels fell, I knew I had to find my favorite little brother. I pulled a few strings, found your damaged soul, and got you into this guy: Jimmy Novak. You’ve been out cold for… ’bout two days now.”

            Castiel felt a sudden pain in his chest. _Worry,_ he thought, placing the emotion. _But why?_ All his brain could think of, then, were of his humans: The Winchesters. Had Dean seen him falling and moved out of the way? “Gabriel, were there any… humans around me when you found me? Or… a black car? An Impala?”

            The archangel narrowed his eyes. “Um… no? Cassie, are you okay?”

            Castiel did not answer. “I need to go. Thank you for your help, Gabriel.” With that, he tried to stand. The pain was blinding and hit him full-force. It had dulled when he spoke with Gabriel, but when he moved, it flared up again.

            Gabriel grabbed his shoulder, forcing Castiel back onto the bed. “Bro, you need to rest until your soul recovers from the fall. Look, whatever you have to do, tell me. Castiel, I’ve been on Earth _a while_. I can manage whatever it is, plus, the fall did not hurt me as badly.”

            The young angel bit his lip—a human response, but it felt right. “In Heaven, I have a job. It’s to watch over and guard Sam and Dean Winchester. I need to find them and make sure that they’re safe.”

            Gabriel pursed his lips but nodded. “Sure, Cassie. Don’t you worry. I got this.”


End file.
